Happy New Year! It’s time to explore a new virtue: resolution. What a happy coincidence that it also happens to be prime resolution season.

Franklin’s definition:

“Resolve to perform what you ought. Perform without fail what you resolve.”

In my home, new year’s resolution is a derogatory phrase. It’s so passé as to be meaningless. People seem to be good at the first part of Franklin’s definition, and not so hot on the second.

Joe and I typically set aside two times a year (winter & summer) to assess our big-picture goals and come up with an action plan. We prefer to call it our reflections because resolutions has an unsuccessful connotation. I’m being precious with distinctions, I know. But what we’re after is sustained commitment to our goals.

A big-picture road map is crucial, which is why we set aside time to reflect on our goals and evaluate the progress we made in the previous six months. But one cannot spend a trip debating whether or not to get in the car and follow the road map to the destination. I mean, I suppose one could spend their trip debating. But they shouldn’t be surprised to find themselves standing in their driveway instead of where they wanted to go.

Sometimes, though, when I reach reflection season, I balk at figuring out what my big-picture goals should be. Fortunately, our virtuous friend, Ben Franklin himself, has some decent advice:

Here are my resolutions to keep the Soul alive:

Resolution #1: I’ve been working on a short story collection, but I tend to bump my time for writing in favor of tasks I’m anxious about. And given that anxiety is a demon-monster that stalks my every move, I haven’t finished. I resolve to start each day writing fiction before I move on to other things.

My second resolution is the result of one of the most thoughtful/scary gifts I’ve ever received:

Joe knows me well. If he didn’t set a deadline, I would savor imagining all the glorious adventures I could have. I’m a squirrel that way; I love saving up possibility and spastically running around with options. And if Joe didn’t set consequences, I’d donate my adventures back to my family. (Incidentally, they are having a grand time brainstorming adventures they would choose for me. Like snake-wrangling. Or amusement parks.)

Resolution #2: I’m terrified to sing. Have you ever had a dream where you opened your mouth to speak or scream and nothing came out? That has literally happened to me on stage during auditions. (And for some reason, no one ever wanted to cast me in a singing role.) I don’t want to sing for other people, I want to to tackle that fear. And because singers have a tendency to look transcendentally, joyously free. I want to learn their transcendant secret. So, I resolve to find a voice teacher and start lessons.     

What are your resolutions? What are your reflections? Are you still sticking with them? Share your thoughts below or on Facebook.

Notes:

Image: Photo by freestocks.org from Pexels

1. Guest, Edgar Albert. “On Quitting.” Poetry Foundation, www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44316/on-quitting.

2. Franklin, Benjamin. “XII Mon. February [1746] Hath Xxviii Days by...” Poetry Foundation, www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/58689/xii-mon-february-1746-hath-xxviii-days.